


We Fall So Far

by TheGreatCatsby



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Post Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 04:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5033539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginoza always knew that Kougami would be on the opposite side if they ever met again. That doesn't make this meeting any easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Fall So Far

**Author's Note:**

> ah yes, another fic added to the great fic war

“There are terrorists attempting to destroy our ports. They want to move further into the city. We know what their intentions are, and we have no tolerance for this anymore. Suppress everyone you find. If their number triggers the lethal eliminator, do not hesitate to use it.” 

In the wake of Kasei's meeting there was a grim silence amongst the team members of Division One. As they prepared to confront these terrorists, they exchanged no words. They knew what they would do. Split into two teams, the enforcers taking the lead, the inspectors ready to negotiate with anyone willing. 

Although, as Kasei had ordered, this time there would be no negotiation. As they headed into the parking area for their vehicles, Ginoza glanced at Akane and noticed the shadowed expression on her face. She didn't agree. Which meant that this particular mission would be difficult, with her and Shimotsuki likely arguing on how to handle things. 

He didn't approach her, though, because they didn't have time. When all of this was over he would talk to her, make sure that she didn't hold in her frustrations. Even though by now it was clear that Akane's hue could take a beating, he still worried over it. Over her. Maybe that kind of worry didn't even have to do with Akane's psycho-pass anymore. 

He followed the other enforcers into the paddy-wagon, and soon they were off, speeding towards the harbor. Everyone was tense. Silent. 

And then they stopped. They were released from the paddy-wagon, gathered around Akane and Shimotsuki, dominators already out. 

“We have a larger area to cover here than usual,” Akane said. “I don't know why another Division wasn't sent to help us. But we'll split into three groups.” 

“Kunizuka, with me,” Mika said. “Ginoza and Sugo will be in the second group.” 

“And Hinakawa and I in the third,” Akane said. “When you find someone...” 

“No matter what their number is, shoot them,” Mika said. 

Akane's expression twitched, but she nodded. “Ready?” 

A distant explosion caught them all by surprise. 

“I guess that's our signal,” Sugo said. 

“We'll check that one out,” Ginoza told Akane, and he and Sugo ran off. 

The sound of explosions increased. The terrorists, as Kasei called them, were probably targeting any ships. Ginoza wondered what those ships were used for. Certainly not for transporting people. Very few people came into the country, and even fewer left. Division One's trip to SEAun had been an anomaly. 

As they wove their way through the maze of storage crates, the acrid smell of burning plastic and metal became stronger, and smoke started to float past them, casting a strange light. Eerie, not quite like a sunset, but more like the surreal light cast by an eclipse. And Ginoza had a strange feeling in his chest. 

“Split up?” Sugo suggested when they reached a branching point. Both of which led to the water. “We can approach from either side, if people are there. Then we have the advantage of boxing them in instead of us being boxed in.” 

Ginoza nodded, and they parted ways. He crept past the crates, slowing down before he rounded the corner. Dominator up, he prepared to rush out. 

Then hands grabbed him from behind, taking him completely by surprise. He hadn't heard anyone behind him, had assumed that the people he'd been looking for were ahead, where the explosions were. He'd been too reckless. 

He tried to twist out of the grip, but the other person moved fast, as if anticipating that Ginoza wouldn't just allow himself to be subdued. They wrenched Ginoza's real arm back, and Ginoza cried out at the sharp pain. His hand spasmed against his will, and the dominator clattered to the ground. 

But the other person had forgotten Ginoza's artificial arm, and Ginoza drove it into their stomach, heard a satisfying grunt, felt the grip on him loosen enough so that he could twist around this time. He kicked the person hard, so that they let go completely, and then dove for the dominator, scrambling to his feet and spinning around, pointing it at his attacker. 

The dominator started talking, but Ginoza stopped listening, the calm voice fading to a buzz. Instead, the person in front of him came into sharp focus. The blue eyes, the familiar shock of messy, dark hair. The smirk that gave him endless frustration. 

“Kougami,” Ginoza breathed. 

He'd thought, after Shambala Float, that he'd never see Kougami again. Certainly not in Japan. 

Kougami had a gun in his hand, but his dropped it, held his hands up, still smirking. “Gino,” he said. “It's been a while.” 

“What are you doing here?” Ginoza snapped. His throat was constricted. He could feel his heart beating through his skin. Because what he was seeing was impossible. 

“Fighting for the right thing,” Kougami said. “Are we not going to talk about what the dominator is doing?” 

Ginoza didn't want to talk about it. But it was impossible to ignore. The dominator in his hand was set to lethal eliminator, Kougami's crime coefficient right in front of him. 330. 

Too high to talk down. 

“That's not a manipulation right now, is it,” Kougami said. “What's the number?” 

“Kougami.” Ginoza could barely get his name out. He gritted his teeth. “Leave.” 

“Are you going to shoot me?” 

He should have. He should have been able to shoot Kougami because that was his job, and Kougami was a criminal, and he shouldn't have been back in Japan and Ginoza had his instructions. But as when Kasei asked him to shoot back when they were on the same team, Ginoza couldn't do it. 

“No.” 

“Good.” Kougami lowered his hands. “Because I don't want to hurt you.” 

“What?” 

And then, something hit the back of his head, hard. He felt a sharp burst of pain, the ground underneath his feet disappeared, and then everything went dark. 

* 

“We should kill him.” 

“We're not killing him.” 

“Because he was your friend?” 

“Because he's useful.” 

“I should deal with him.” 

“No. The more faces he sees, the more he'll have on us. He already knows me.” 

“You just don't want to kill him.” 

Ginoza's head was aching, a pounding pain that made him feel nauseous. He tried to open his eyes, but everything spun and he closed them again. 

“Do you think this is enough?” 

“He doesn't have much resistance to that kind of thing. So I think so.” 

One of those voices belonged to Kougami. The other was unfamiliar. It took Ginoza a moment to realize they were speaking English, not Japanese, and he was surprised he could understand them with the way his head was. Maybe it was a survival instinct kicking in, telling him that what they were saying was important and even though he couldn't move, he had to understand. 

He heard footsteps and shuffling. Felt that someone was getting closer. He tried to move, but his body felt heavy. And then a warm, calloused hand lifted his chin. 

“You're awake,” Kougami's voice said. 

Ginoza opened his eyes again. It was dark, but he could make out Kougami's face. It took a moment to focus, to not feel like he was going to be sick if he kept staring for too long. 

“Wh-what...” Ginoza swallowed. Even his voice felt heavy, if that was possible. Hard to get out, hard to make his throat and mouth work. When he managed to speak, the words came out slurred. “What's going on?” 

“I couldn't leave you there,” Kougami said. “And I couldn't let you go back to the PSB.” 

“What?” 

“I want to explain something to you. I never really answered your question about why I'm back here.” 

“You shouldn't be here.” 

“Neither should you,” Kougami said. “I should have asked, before. I didn't know what I wanted back then. But now I do, and I regret not asking you and Akane to stay.” 

“And what?” Ginoza tried to straighten up. He managed to brace himself against the wall. Every surface that touched his body seemed hard and cold. 

“And fight,” Kougami said. His eyes were bright. Earnest. 

“Fight what?” Ginoza asked. 

“You know what, Gino,” Kougami said. When Ginoza didn't respond, he added, “The Sybil System. It's wrong. And now that you're a latent criminal, surely you can see that.” 

“Akane isn't a latent criminal,” Ginoza said, turning over Kougami's words in his head. He tried not to think about the Sybil System. He thought about his job, about his teammates, but thinking about the Sybil System itself led him to dark thoughts about his own future. About how he didn't really have one. 

“But she understands,” Kougami said. “I think she just needs convincing.” 

“She's not here,” Ginoza said. “And she tries. She tries to do things differently when she can, to make things a bit more fair. You've seen it, the unorthodox way she works. She gives people a chance that way. What makes you think that what she's doing could be better done somewhere else?” 

“We're not somewhere else anymore,” Kougami told him. “We're here to stay. We've realized that we need to fix the problem at the source, and the source is here. The origin of the System, the center, is here.” 

Ginoza shifted, but again his body refused to listen. 

“I'd be careful,” Kougami said. “You've been sedated-” 

“What?” 

“-and your arm is chained to the wall. Your real arm.” 

Ginoza tried to move his real arm. He felt something cold and hard against his wrist. “Kougami--” 

“I'm not asking for an answer now,” Kougami said. “You should probably sleep on it.” 

“Sleep on it.” Ginoza took a sharp breath, trying to calm the panic starting to rise in his throat. “How long have I been here?” 

Kougami was fiddling with something. “Not long,” he said. “A few hours.” 

“The others--” 

“Division One is fine,” Kougami said. “We retreated once we destroyed a few ships and captured you.” 

“Was that your plan?” Ginoza asked. “To capture one of us?” 

“Ideally,” Kougami said. He reached forward for Ginoza's real arm, took it by the wrist, and Ginoza heard the chain scrape against the ground as he pulled it forward and pushed back Ginoza's shirt sleeve. Ginoza saw that his coat and suit jacket were both missing. “I got lucky that it was you. Because I know you. And I want to help you.” He looked into Ginoza's eyes, almost pleading. “Please let me help you.” 

But Ginoza's focus was on his arm. “Wh-what are you doing?” This was unnatural, to fear Kougami's touch. But that's what he felt. Fear, at the grip on his arm. But he couldn't pull away. 

“Helping you sleep,” Kougami said. 

He slid a needle under Ginoza's skin. Ginoza did try to move away this time, but his body was weak and Kougami's hold was firm. There was the burning sensation of something moving from the syringe into his blood, and he shuddered, nausea rising in his throat. He wanted to be sick. 

“Kougami,” he croaked, but whatever was in that syringe was now making its way through the rest of his body, and he felt heavy. Warm. And like he was slipping. 

“Sleep,” Kougami said, letting go of his arm and moving back. “We'll have more time to talk later.” 

And against his will, Ginoza slept. 

* 

When next he woke up, Ginoza was alone. 

He couldn't move. It took an effort just to breathe. He wondered if Kougami had given him too much sedative. He felt ill, and then felt worse when he remembered that it was Kougami who had trapped him like this. Who was putting him in a terrible position. Who wanted to use him.

Because, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that this was what their conversation amounted to. Kougami had a mission, and he wanted to use Ginoza to convince Akane to join him. And then he would use the both of them to destroy the System. Possibly without thinking through the consequences. Possibly resulting in all of their deaths. Or starting a war that none of them were prepared to fight. 

What Kougami was saying was that the Sybil System was wrong. He'd said that before, and Ginoza, the way he was now, couldn't necessarily disagree. But that didn't mean that he wanted to die fighting it. Or watch his friends, the people he cared about and loved, dying trying to fight it. Dying for nothing. Because the possibility of success was very small. 

He'd imagined his reunion with Kougami many times. He'd tried not to, tried to get rid of Kougami completely from his thoughts, but it was impossible. Kougami had become a fixture in his life, and he'd stayed around in memory even when physically he was across the ocean. Every imagined reunion he had never turned out like this. 

Foolishly, once, he'd imagined that they'd run away together. That Ginoza would somehow find it in himself to leave Division One, even though he couldn't see himself leaving Akane behind. Maybe he would take Akane with him. But either way, if he had, he would find Kougami, and they would go away from the cities and the war, find some way to live together in peace. To be happy for once. To not have to fight anymore. 

And when they'd left Shambala Float, Kougami had seemed so tired and lost that Ginoza was almost convinced that this could happen. That Kougami would want to stop fighting, and just be with the people he cared about. 

Instead, the opposite had happened. 

Ginoza stared at a ceiling that he couldn't see. He had no idea where he was, just that the room was cold and dark, the floor underneath him hard and unforgiving. And that Kougami was his captor, possibly the only one he would see, and the only way he was going to leave was if he agreed to what Kougami wanted. 

And if he didn't...

Ginoza never would have believed, before, that Kougami would kill him. But now he wasn't so sure. And that scared him. It felt like he was being stabbed over and over. 

Because Kougami was his friend. And this was yet another betrayal. 

He didn't know how long it was before Kougami returned. It took him ages to be able to sit up, and even then he had to prop himself against the wall. His wrist communication device was gone. He had no weapons. The cold was starting to seep from the floor and wall into his skin. Into his thoughts. 

When Kougami returned, the first thing Ginoza said to him was, “You want to use us. Akane and I.” 

Kougami knelt down in front of him, shook his head. “No. I want to make a place where we can live freely, together.” 

“But you don't care how you get there,” Ginoza said. “What happened? I thought you were tired of fighting.” 

“I was,” Kougami said. “But then I realized that fighting is all I had to give. Nothing happens if no one does anything. I lost everything because of the Sybil System--” 

“You left,” Ginoza cut him off. “You made that choice.” 

“Can you really blame me?” 

Ginoza did blame Kougami, for hurting him. For hurting Akane. For not thinking his actions through and not saying goodbye. But he didn't say anything. 

“The System is wrong,” Kougami continued. “The decisions it makes, and how it deals with those decisions, ruins lives. It imprisons people without any hope or any chance of freedom. And the only way to stop it is to take action.” 

“A lot of people will die.” 

“A lot of people have died,” Kougami said. “How many people have you shot with the lethal eliminator?” 

“Don't you dare,” Ginoza snapped. “How many people have you? You worked for this System, too.” 

“And now I don't,” Kougami said. “And you don't have to.” 

“I can't just leave my team behind,” Ginoza said. “I can't drop everything I've worked for to fight in a war that you're not guaranteed to win.” 

“What do you have, Gino?” Kougami asked. “What is in your future?” 

Ginoza took a sharp breath. 

“Nothing,” Kougami answered for him. “You're a dog. Nothing more. Something for the System to use and discard when it's done with you, if you haven't died in the field first fighting for some kind of warped justice and a false sense of safety.” 

“I have my team,” Ginoza said, but Kougami's words rang true. He didn't have anything to look forward to, other than protecting his team. But his team...they meant a lot to him. “My team is important.” 

“Your team doesn't have to fight for Sybil.” 

“They won't all just leave,” Ginoza said. “They have lives there. It may not seem like much of a life to you, but to them, it's everything.” 

“And to you?” 

“I've learned to live with it.” 

“To live with nothing,” Kougami said. “When you could have so much more.” 

“You sound like him,” Ginoza said. “Makishima.” He was tired. He was tired of this Kougami. He wanted to go back to what he'd imagined. He didn't want this reality. 

Kougami's expression darkened. “No. I'm not. He didn't care about what happened to the world. He just wanted chaos, to see what would happen. I want freedom.” 

“Isn't it the same thing?” Ginoza asked. 

“No. Not in this case.” 

“There will be chaos anyway, Kougami. What do you want from me?” Ginoza asked. He forced himself to look Kougami in the eyes, no matter how unfamiliar they were now. 

“I want you to convince Akane, and possibly the rest of your team, to join me,” Kougami said. “I really think this is for the best.” 

“We could die.” 

“You might,” Kougami said. “But you might not.” 

“So it's not important if we die or not?” Ginoza asked. “As long as we're fighting.” 

Kougami frowned at him. 

“And what about if I don't agree?” Ginoza asked, even though he didn't want to. “What then?” 

Kougami took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “We don't send people back,” he said, after a moment. “Not without a purpose. And we can't keep prisoners. We're mobile.” 

“You'd kill me,” Ginoza said. 

“I...” For the first time, Kougami hesitated, and Ginoza felt something like hope. “I wouldn't be able to stop it.” 

“You're in charge, aren't you?” Ginoza asked. “You could forget this whole thing happened. I'm sure they'd believe you, whatever you said.” He sighed. “Or you could come with me. We could help you, Akane and I. Akane is still in charge. You should.” He bit off a please. 

“I can't go back,” Kougami said. 

“Then we could just part ways.” 

“And what would you do?” Kougami asked. “Would we be on opposite sides?” 

“Haven't we been up until this point?” Ginoza asked. “Nothing would change.” 

“It would change,” Kougami said. “Because you'd know.” He stood up. “Please, think about it.” 

“Kougami,” Ginoza started, but Kougami walked away. Ginoza heard the screech of a metal door closing. 

And he was left alone, in the dark. 

This time, Kougami hadn't sedated him. He still couldn't believe that Kougami had done that before. This time, it was a small blessing, but now he had time to think. And he didn't like his thoughts. 

He didn't know when Kougami would come back through that door. But it wasn't the Kougami he'd missed and dreamt about and maybe even, once, loved. This Kougami was a stranger, and the very sight of him made Ginoza feel like driving a knife into his own heart just to have some other pain replace that of seeing how much Kougami had changed into something resembling a man that once, they'd both seen as a monster. 

And Kougami didn't even realize it. 

And yet, the worst part was seeing the small bits of the old Kougami that remained. The one who would have stepped back and thought about what he was doing. Who would have understood the difference between doing what he was doing for people and doing it for an ideal. Parts of him were still there, but almost gone. Like a fading memory. 

When Kougami walked through that door, Ginoza would have to make a choice. He didn't think he'd be able to stall for time. And there would be no point. No one was coming. 

And he felt sick. It was all down to him, and none of the choices were good. 

But at least, he thought, it was him making them. And no one else. Because he wouldn't want anyone else in this position. This was his job, as an Enforcer. To protect the others from the ugliness of the world that they were in as best he could. 

And that was what he was going to do. 

* 

“I'll do it. I'll convince Akane, and I'll fight with you.” 

Kougami listened. Nodded. “That's a good decision on your part.” 

“I don't want to die feeling like I've done nothing,” Ginoza said, the words tasting like bile on his tongue. “I want to die on my terms. And among friends.” 

“Of course.” Kougami took something out of his pocket. The key to unlock the chain on Ginoza's wrist. “And more than friends. We're like a family.” 

“Hopefully I can convince the others,” Ginoza said, watching Kougami lift up his wrist to get at the lock. It was easier to focus on that. 

“I'll give you a burner phone,” Kougami said, “so you can contact me. I can't tell your our location, for obvious reasons, but once you get Akane and as many others as you can on board, we can start talking about next steps. About how to get you out.” 

“Right.” Ginoza swallowed. “Kougami. There was a time when I thought we could be more than friends.” 

Kougami looked up, startled. 

“And then you left,” Ginoza continued. “But this is a second chance, isn't it?” 

The cuff on Ginoza's wrist fell away, but Kougami kept his hand there. “Gino...I remember you saying that relationships are out of the question.” 

“For inspectors,” Ginoza said. “But I'm not an inspector anymore.” His voice shook, slightly, but he hoped Kougami wouldn't notice. Or wouldn't care. Or would take it as sadness. And in a way, it was. “I'm not even going to be an enforcer, soon.” 

“When this is done,” Kougami said. “Maybe--” 

“When it's done?” Ginoza repeated. “Suddenly, you don't have time?” It shouldn't have been surprising. Kougami had changed in many ways. It shouldn't have been surprising that this, too, had changed. 

“There are more pressing things to deal with,” Kougami said. “But after-” 

“Then let me give you a promise,” Ginoza cut him off. He took a steadying breath, and then grabbed Kougami's shirt with his artificial hand, pulling him forward, so that their faces were almost touching. 

“Gino,” Kougami said, eyes wide. 

Ginoza kissed him. He closed his eyes and kissed Kougami and imagined that it was the Kougami he'd fallen in love with years ago, before Kougami had left, before he'd felt betrayed, back when they were partners and relatively happy. He poured that love into the kiss, even though he felt only the ghost of something being given back to him. 

But that ghost of something was enough. Kougami released his grip on the wrist of Ginoza's other hand, and it was enough for Ginoza to reach for the gun strapped to Kougami's waist, to grip it tight and pull it out of its holster. With his artificial hand, he pushed Kougami back and scrambled to his feet. 

And he aimed the gun at Kougami. 

Kougami stared up at him, surprised. “You're going to shoot me?” 

Ginoza hesitated. Even now. Even knowing what Kougami had become. 

“I don't think you were lying,” Kougami said, “about being more than friends.” 

No, because the best lies were told using the truth, and once Ginoza had wanted that from Kougami, and even now he still wanted it, but not from the man in front of him. Not from the man who would put them all in danger, and ruin their lives. Not when, without this man, Division One could continue to exist and be safe and alive and the terrorist organization would fall apart and they might not be completely happy but they would be content. 

There would be less pain, this way. For the others. 

Maybe not for him. But for them. 

Ginoza tightened his grip on the gun. “Your crime coefficient is 330,” he said, his voice shaking. 

Kougami started to say something, and Ginoza shot him in the head. 

Kougami became nothing but a spray of blood and brain and skull, like a burst of firework in the dark room, before collapsing, strings cut, completely empty. 

And Ginoza ran. 

* 

“Akane, you should know that Ginoza has been recorded entering the building. He seems to be heading for his quarters.” 

“Thank you, Shion,” Akane said. “Does he look...is he injured?” 

“I don't think so.” 

The past few days had been spent searching for Ginoza, with no luck. His destroyed communication device and dominator had been found at the harbor, and shortly after Sugo found his things, the terrorists stopped their attack and withdrew, giving them nothing. Security feeds around the area had been knocked out, crudely, but effectively. 

There were whispers that Ginoza had defected, and Chief Kasei seemed unconcerned with his disappearance. She'd only said, “I trust you to take the appropriate disciplinary action if you find him.” 

Akane didn't believe for a second that Ginoza had willingly disappeared. 

She wanted to head off Ginoza at his quarters. Hinakawa and Sugo gave her concerned looks. Mika and Kunizuka were out, searching an abandoned warehouse that had been called in by a citizen who had heard “loud banging noises.” 

“I'll be right back,” she told them. 

By the time she got to Ginoza's quarters, the door was already open, and she was headed off by Dime, who nearly jumped on her. When she went to pet him, to calm him down, he turned away and went further into the apartment. She followed him to the bathroom, where the door was ajar. 

She heard the sound of retching. 

“Thank you,” she murmured to Dime, and then pushed open the bathroom door. 

Ginoza was on his knees over the toilet, being violently ill. But the retches sounded more like sobs, and there were tears running down his face, and he didn't even look up when Akane knelt next to him, only flinched when she brushed his hair out of his face, re-tied his ponytail as he lost everything in his stomach and continued to heave even when there was nothing left. 

“What happened?” she asked softly, rubbing his back. 

Ginoza struggled to catch his breath, each inhale seemed to be exhaled with a sob. Akane checked him for injuries but couldn't find any obvious ones. He was shaking. 

“Wh-what...my c-crime coefficient?” he asked. “Wh-what is it?” 

She should have expected it. The numbers and hues, they always worried him. But she had a feeling this wasn't just about that. 

“B-because,” he continued, “K-k-kougami was 330. Am I like him, now?” 

Akane stared at him. “Kougami?” 

“Tell me,” Ginoza begged. 

Akane used her wrist device to scan him. There had been a spike in his crime coefficient, from 120 to 205. 

“205,” she said. 

“I sh-should be like him,” Ginoza moaned, shaking his head. “I k-killed him.” 

“What happened?” 

And, haltingly, Ginoza told her. About how he saw Kougami, about how he was knocked out and taken somewhere that he didn't recognize, about how Kougami had changed and what he wanted and how he chose to kill Kougami, because he was a danger. He got sick again when he said this. And then he'd escaped, came straight back to the PSB. 

“Please tell me I made the right choice,” he whispered. 

Akane pulled him close, her own eyes burning as she tried to reconcile her own memories of Kougami with what Ginoza was telling her, and with his death. “You always take the burden on yourself,” she said, quietly, holding him to her as he shook. Of course he would. Of course he would try to protect them all that way. And of course he would doubt himself after. 

“Akane,” he sobbed. “Please.” 

“You made the right choice,” Akane told him. “And I'm so sorry you had to make it.” 

And she held him for hours, trying to convince him that it was true, that he had been right. Trying to believe it herself. Trying to stop him from falling apart.


End file.
